


Ruthless

by twinniebairns



Category: You Me At Six
Genre: A lot of Hurt, Alternate Universe - Dark, Death, M/M, Mobs, Sex, Torture, mafia tbh, mentioned child abuse, pretty much killing of all kind, they just serve the plot really, they're not the main focus, very little comfort, you've never heard of Biffy but just imagine that they're random characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinniebairns/pseuds/twinniebairns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a New York City that isn't really the promised land anymore, sons of immigrants have resorted to gang fighting and mobs. Ruled by the mafia, the city struggles to keep itself together, now a ghetto of violence in a paralysed country. Josh Franceschi, stray son of a mafia godfather, has climbed his way up to the highest circles of Simon Neil's Scottish mob, and that despite his origins. At the heart of the biggest terror organisation of the city, with bounty hunters at his heels, he has to deal with an over-zealous ex and a beautiful contract killer, in addition of managing his tense relations with Simon's obsessive right arm-man.<br/>It goes without saying that this fragile equilibrium will soon be endangered. After all, Josh is a master in the art of forging ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Too Young To Feel This Old

**Author's Note:**

> /!\ IMPORTANT  
> PLEASE bear in mind that if you're going to share this fic on tumblr or anywhere, you would do us an immense favour by not tagging it or mentioning that Biffy are in it. There is literally no fic trend in that fanbase and we don't want it to start. Really. We don't. Be cool with us and don't broadcast it (not the fic. but the fact we have... well you see). We don't want them to see it and we don't want anyone that's really involved in Biffy to see it. It's just a harmless bit of fun between you guys and us. Help us keep it that way. Thank you.
> 
> Apart from that, let us know if you like it :)

Josh Franceschi was running. His shoes slipped on the wet pavement, their worn soles threatening to send him face down onto the ground. The cold wind dived into the large streets of New York, working against Josh. His battered eyes started tearing up from the biting gusts. The man behind him was huffing and puffing.

Why was he here?

The avenues were swallowing him like giant monsters, empty and grim. He turned into a small alley, hoping for an escape, the man's breathing heavier behind him. Maybe he could hope losing him. The end of the street was in the shadows. Josh was getting out of breath. 

With horror he saw the darkness morph into a tall graffitti'd wall. His worn out shoes slided on the concrete and Josh's heart almost stopped. A hand grabbed his shoulder. Instincts took over. He wrestled the man to the ground. A confused fight ensued. The man was bigger and stronger than Josh. The concrete tore Josh's skin. A knife shone in a ray of light, and pain exploded into Josh's hand. He couldn't scream. He didn't have the time. He thrust his hand. There was a loud cracking noise and the man fell motionless. 

Josh stumbled back up, dizzy. It didn't take him long to realise the man lay dead on the concrete, his head in a weird angle. Josh held his bleeding hand, shaking all over, his legs turned to jelly. The cold wind was whistling in the alley and Josh turned around. There were two men crafted out of the light from the avenue. Josh's small heart started beating even faster than it had done during his flight.

"Hey, you're good, you." 

The accent was thickly british, something Josh hadn't heard for some time. For a few months actually. Well, last time was when he last saw his mother alive. Then nothing. The man stepped out of the blinding rays, revealing his face. He wore a fur-lined coat. His blond hair was combed back and his cheekbones looked as if they could slash someone's throat open. Josh's fingers tightened around his hand as the eyes scrutinised him. 

"

What's your name?" The man asked. His eyes were of a startlingly clear colour ; he wore knee high leather boots and very skinny jeans. There was a gun at his belt, right underneat a flap of the elegant coat : he looked more like a gay pimp than a crime lord.

"Josh." he said. Not the last name. It wasn't advised. Nobody had to know who he was... Nobody.

"Josh..." Dan smiled. "You're not in the business? You look pretty lost. You're not from here." His hands were covered with leather gloves.

"What business?"

"You look pretty good at fighting and killing, boy, you do. You need money?"

"Well... Well yes..." Josh glanced back at the dead guy, still trembling. 

"Then, Josh" the guy held out his hand, "I'm Dan Flint, and this is Chris Miller. And we need an assistant for our little contract killing affair."

\--

"Lee Wilson. You're gonna kill him. I want it clean and done for the end of the week."

Josh repeated the words Jimbo had pronounced in his head.

Lee Wilson. He looked at the photo again.  
Lee had been one of the first guys he'd met in NYC. Not a bad chap. They'd cruised together for a few day until Josh found a shelter.  
Lee wasn't harmless. But really, he wasn't a bad guy. He didn't deserve this.

Josh looked at his designer shoes. He didn't want to do this. But Jimbo had been categorical. He had to kill Lee. 

A car honked from behind Josh. The young man turned around. A black sports car had slowed down next to him. Josh knew it all two well. Kanye West was blasting from the open windows, and inside, in a ridiculous fur coat and sunglasses, cigarette in mouth, sat Dan Flint. 

"Get in, loser."

Josh sighed, leaning into the window.

"Dan, I'm going to eat."

Dan shrugged.

"I'll eat with you."

"Oh, piss off!" Josh whined, turning away from the car and took a few steps. "I've got more important things to think about!"

"Jimbo again?" Dan asked loudly.

Josh stopped in his track. Seconds later he was sitting in the passenger seat. He was so weak.

"I'd told you : Simon Neil is a horrible little bitch." Dan said nonchalantly.

"It's not Simon, it's fucking Jimbo."

"He's one of the Johnston twins, I think you shouldn't talk about him like that or the other will come to cave your head in with a hammer, friend or enemy."

"See, this is why I broke up with you!" Josh groaned. 

"Because I point out your blatant mistakes that could perfectly have been avoided if you'd listened to me? Darling." Dan shunned him with a flap of the hand.

"Don't call me darling, for fuck's sake."

Dan shrugged and said nothing. Josh crossed his arms. God he was annoying. 

"Still." Dan said. "Now you have to kill that poor sod, and I'd recommend that you'd do. Or you might want to negotiate with Jimbo. He may be stubborn, but if Simon asked him to clean his fungus-covered feet with his mouth, he would. He doesn't want Simon angry. You have that on your side."

Josh thought for a bit. Dan had a point. There was no way Josh was killing Lee. Frankly, he'd never made a mistake, so Jimbo had to accept that he wouldn't kill that particular person. 

"All of this could have been prevented by staying independent, though." Dan said, waving his cigarette.

"Independent doesn't give me that apartment with view on Central Park." Josh retaliated. "Simon does. And he does it well.

Dan shrugged yet again.

"I choose the people I kill, darling, and I have a Rover AND a Ferrari." He patted the dashboard of the car.

"For the last damned time don't call me darling. And that may be because you're, I don't know, at the head of a contract killing society." Josh let out, quite exasperated. Dan just waved it off and Josh wrinkled his nose. "Oooh I know why you hate Simon. It's because you ARE Simon, you are just like him and you're jealous!"

"Oh come on Josh!" Dan laughed. "This guy is... this guy is just vile! Why would I compare myself to him? Besides, you're not dating him! Are you?"

Josh didn't answer. Dan frowned.

"You're not dating him?"

"SEE?" Josh exploded. "You're jealous! No, I'm not dating him! Obviously not, but I'd rather date his ass than you again!"

"His ass is the only good thing about him, of course you would!" 

"Oh come on!" Josh hissed. "You're just a control freak, that's what you are!"

"The Scottish mob is full to the rim of control freaks! That and pedophiles, that is!"

"I thought you'd killed a kid!" Josh scoffed.

"He was 16, that's hardly a kid!" Dan shouted. "Chill!"

"I am my own person, Dan, you hear me? My own person!" Josh shouted louder.

"Have I ever said anything against that? I just care about you! Jesus!" Dan spouted.

There was a silence. Josh didn't know what to answer. Of course he wasn't in love with Dan anymore, and the blond man irritated him extremely. But Dan always listened, and, yes, Dan cared about him. Josh couldn't deny it. They both stayed silent until they got to the restaurant. Dan left his keys to the valet and they were led to their table. Josh ordered some bouillabaisse.

"You know," Dan finally said, "Remember that kid, Max Helyer?"

"The one who got around in drag for you?"

"Pretty much. Anyway he doesn't do that anymore. He's a pretty good shot. Furtive too. And he's, well..."

Dan paused. Josh knew what that meant.

"Attractive?"

"... A good killer." Dan shrugged. "AND he's cute. God, Josh, stay professional."

Josh rolled his eyes as the plates arrived.

"Are you dating him?" He asked. 

"Why? Are you jealous?" Dan snorted.

"No, I just want to know." Josh said tensely.

"I'm not dating him. He's your type. Not mine." Dan inspected his vegetarian fruit risotto with the tip of his fork.

Josh shifted. Oh dear.

"Don't start playing matchmakers with me, Dan."

"I'm not. You just seem lonely those days. Might as well..."

"Well it's a no." Josh said categorically.

"He's got facial hair now."

"Yeah whatever." Josh muttered.

He looked at his small meal. It tasted good, but it wasn't worth Maman's bouillabaisse. 

"As for your killing thing - do try to fend off Jimbo. You never know. Just give me a call, keep me informed, alright?"

"Sure."

Dan nodded, and finished his risotto.

"Alright. Well, this was a real nice meal, I have to say."

\--

"What do you mean you're not gonna kill him?" 

Jimbo's thick scottish burr echoed in his office. Josh swallowed, looking in the redhead's cold blue eyes, which felt like he was being rearranged from the inside. 

"Of course you're going to kill him, I told you to!" Jimbo growled.

"Listen, Jimbo..." Josh sighed.

"Why should I? It's not hard! I'm asking you to kill this guy! You're not going to faint!" Jimbo barked. "I have orders, Franceschi, and you are under mine, so you're going to kill Lee Wilson."

"Listen, I can't do that, I knew him."

James rose his eyebrows. Which were already quite high-perched.

"And?"

"And I don't know, I used to be... Kind of friends with this guy, I can't kill him. Just imagine if it was one of your friends-"

"I don't have friends." James cut him curtly. "I have Ben. Everybody can't have a rich past of normal social interactions like you, Franceschi. Friends don't exist in this world, I thought you knew."

Josh contained himself. If there was one thing he shouldn't do, it was lashing out at Jimbo.

"I know. I just... Listen Jimbo, I need one favour, okay? Besides, Simon needs the job done, so..."

Jimbo set a pile of files down on his desk. 

"Please." Josh begged reluctantly. 

Jimbo huffed, shaking his head.

"I have a headache so I'm going to say yes. That's the first, and the last time I give in to your bratty behaviour. I don't care if your next kill is your fucking cousin or whatever, you're going to off them."

"Oh god, Jimbo, thank you..."

Jimbo shot him a death glare.

"Yeah, you better thank me. You'll sort this while I'm doing YOUR job." He pointed at the pile of files. "By name and date."

Josh nodded quickly, and Jimbo took his jacket and hat, exiting. God, that guy was a fraud. And a genuine ass licker. Josh took the files, and went towards his office. 

He had some papers to sort now.

\--

James Johnston took his cell phone in his hand, and dialled Ben's phone number. 

"Hello?" Ben answered. 

"Ben, I've got a, you know, some git to off and I'm a bit pissed off. Join me?"

"Of course. I'll be at the bottom of the tower. Meet me there."

"Alright, great. Love you."

"See ya soon."

James hung up. He almost never killed without Ben. It was always Jimbo and Benny, the Johnston twins, and it had always been. And should always be. 

Josh Franceschi. In his head he couldn't even pronounce the name without scorning. Spoilt little bastard. It was logical that Simon appreciated him, mind, as much as James hated it. They were the same race. Sons of mafia godfathers, brought up in expensive houses, they had things to tell eachother. 

James was just another dirty kid from the street, rotting on the pavement with a frostbitten hand perpetually stretched out. And he would have croaked on the pavement like a dog if he'd not joined the mob.

He knew what it meant to beg and he wouldn't want to do it ever again. Franceschi had no shame, and he's never lived on the street. Hence why he had the audacity to beg. Spoiled rotten.

He saw Ben standing at the door of the tower of their apartment and couldn't help but smile. He could hardly be bitter around Ben. Not with that smile. Ben was truly adorable.

"Hey! How was your day?" Ben wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulder, and rubbed it. 

"Oh, the usual I guess. How was yours?"

They started advancing towards the place where James knew they would find Wilson. He had his ways. Franceschi would have spent weeks looking for him. 

"Had to slap a Russian whore in the face, but other than that, not much." Ben shrugged.

"No beef then. What do you want to eat tonight?"

"Well, I bought some tomatoes so I thought we could do a Mediterranean plate." Ben smiled.

"Oh dear. I've got enough Mediterranean today." James hissed.

"Franceschi? What's he done again?" Ben asked, looking amused.

James frowned.

"It's not funny, Ben!"

"Oh come on, he's a kid!" Ben grinned.

"I can't stand him. Self-righteous." James dusted his sleeves.

"Is he why we're going to off the guy?"

"Of course he is. He came to my office whining - by the way, do you have some aspirin?" 

"Nope, sorry." Ben shrugged. "Bah, the adrenaline will do you."

"Guess so." James's fingers fell onto the crowbar tucked in his belt.

They finally reached the corner of the street where James knew Wilson was. Sure enough, he was there. Night had fallen and he was smoking a cigarette. Those parts of the island were derelict, and not safe to dwell in, but the homeless braved the warnings.

"Hi Lee." James said loudly.

Wilson turned towards them, and his eyes widened.

"I don't have the money!" He exclaimed. "I'm sorry- I!"

"You borrowed almost a thousand to us, you know that? Simon's not happy."

"I swear I can't pay back!" Wilson panicked as Ben and James cornered him.

"No you can't." James smirked. "But there's a guy who paid back for you and he only wanted one thing."

"No!" Wilson gasped.

Ben shot him in the leg and Wilson fell, screaming. He shot him in the other leg. James got out his crowbar, gripping it tight.

"Goodnight Lee."

Blood spurted, staining James's face, and Wilson rattled.


	2. Lived a Lie

"Hello?" Josh picked up the phone.

"Danny boy here. How did the Jimbo thing go?"

God. Josh could never be left alone.

"You were right, I mentionned Simon and he took it right back, made me sort some papers while he was going to kill him." Josh mumbled, buttonning up his shirt, the phone pressed between his shoulder and cheek. 

"Thanks who?"

"Oh come on. Thank you, Dan." Josh rolled his eyes. Jesus Christ.

"Great! By the way, I'm having a little party! Mind joining us?" Dan asked cheerfully.

"What- now?!"

"Well yes!"

"It's only 3PM!"

"Never too early, darling!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, don't call me-"

"-Darling, yes, yes sure. Are you coming?"

Josh sighed, rubbing his forehead. As if.

"No. I'm having tea with Simon."

"Tea? How fucking posh of him." Dan mumbled, suddenly less merry. 

"Yes, well he wants to give me a promotion." Josh said, almosy proudly.

"A promotion!" Dan scoffed. "Alright, get in the fucking car."

"What?!"

"I'm down your building."

Josh took his bag, glancing out the window. Sure enough the Ferrarri was there. He gnashed his teeth.

"I said, I can't come to your party!" He articulated, trying not to get angry.

"Yes, I've understood. I'll just drop you off. "

Josh hesitated. You never knew with Dan. He checked his gun and his bag, and walked out, locking behind him. 

"Okay, I'm here in a minute."

He jumped in the lift and went down.  
Dan beeped when he saw him.  
Josh opened the back door, only to be faced with a grown man that wasn't Dan. 

For a second he was scared, but then he realised that it was actually Max Helyer.  
Who was indeed looking very good these days.

Last time he'd seen him his face was completely hairless and he looked like a child. Nice guy, but not really attractive.  
Now, however, it was different. Completely different. 

His gentle brown eyes had somehow widened, darkened, giving him a sultry look. His nose had settled down to a manly shape - not that feminine bump it was when Josh had met him first. His brown hair was cut short, still messy, still incredibly shiny. He had nice stubble on his jawline, chin and upper lip.  
And most importantly he'd kept those endearing, rosy cheeks of his.

Exactly Josh's type of men, Dan had been completely right. He did know him well, Josh had to give him that.

He realised he'd frozen for a few seconds, and that Max had inched back to leave him so space in the car. 

"Hey! It's nice to see you again!" Max grinned.

Josh sat next to him as Dan started the car. He glanced into the rearview mirror, looking for an explanation of Dan's face. But Dan just smiled cockily, which was apparently all he could physically do these days. Josh turned back to Max, gathering his spirits.

"Yes... Yes it's nice, how are you doing those days?" He stuttered.

"Pretty well actually!" Max smiled. "I heard you've gotten involved with the Scottish mob?"

"Yeah..." Josh glared at Dan.

"That's neat, they've got a lot of power." Max nodded.

Josh held back a triumphant smile. At least he'd aced that.

"By the way" Dan intervened. "Get off. Your dear Simon's waiting for you and Max and I have a party to attend."

Max kept on smiling, and Josh took his bag as Dan stopped in front of the GQs.

"Well... Bye."

Max nodded.

"Good luck!"

Josh stagnated.

"Thank you."

He closed the door and shot one last glare at Dan before turning away and getting into the building. It was actually a bank, that Simon owned. He took the lift up to Simon's office, his thoughts still dwelling on Max and his new face.  
He didn't know what he really thought of it all. Was Dan really going to try and match him with this guy? Honestly? Had he not gotten involved enough in his love life?  
But at the same time, Max was cute. He couldn't deny it.

The lift rang, and Josh exited, tugging on his cuffs.  
He saw Benny Johnston walking fast towards his office, his phone on his ear. 

Josh walked softly towards the desk where the secretary, Francesca, was sitting.  
She was a pretty woman with dark hair, and what Josh knew is that she definitely wasn't just a secretary. She had a gun at her belt. She was a bodyguard. 

"Hi-" he started.

"Hi Franceschi, Simon's busy at the moment, maybe wait by the door." She said quickly.

"Oh, okay. Thank you." He said, and went past her desk and into the hallway that led to Simon's office.

Francesca never ever wasted time.

Simon's office was isolated from the hall. The hallway was lit dimly and decorated with a portrait of Terence Neil, Simon's father and predecessor. He looked a lot like Simon, only his features were much harder. Josh leaned against the imposant door gently to wait.  
What he hadn't planned was that he heard almost everything that went on inside.  
He stiffened. 

"He's a slacker, that's what he is!"

That was Jimbo's voice. Dull, high-pitched and perpetually cutting edge.  
Josh knew exactly who he was talking about.

There was a laugh.

"Are you jealous, Jimbo? You're a bit old for all of this, aren't you?"

"I just want to warn you! He doesn't want to do the work!"

"It's just once. He's efficient otherwise, a charming kid. Is that alright, Jimbo?"

The tone was harder. Josh felt satisfaction rise up. 

"... Of course."

"Right. You can go."

Josh straightened up and stepped away from the door.  
Just after, it opened, and Jimbo, red in the face, exited.  
He turned his head and saw Josh, which somehow made him go redder. Which made him almost crimson, as if he'd gotten a bad sunburn.  
He pointed his finger at Josh, tensely.

"You" he growled. "Just you fucking wait."

And then, he went, the sound of his steps much louder than usual.  
Josh relaxed a bit. It wasn't that he took Jimbo's threats seriously, no, Jimbo wouldn't do anything that was against Simon's orders ; but it still wasn't pleasant to have an aggressive finger pointed in your direction by one of the most prolific killers of the Scottish mob.

He stepped towards the door warily, and knocked.

"Get in, Josh."

So Josh did, and stepped in the luminous office.  
Simon Neil was sitting in one of the cream-coloured armchairs by the fireplace - that had no fire in it - all dressed in a neat light blue suit with a white shirt.  
Simon was a truly handsome man, Josh admitted it. Supple, short, slightly curly black hair, with matching facial hair, those wide greenish, bluish eyes, and that seductive smirk of his ; if Simon had a way with people, it was partly because of his looks. He was probably more than ten years older than Josh, but that mattered very little.

He stepped towards the armchairs on the thick carpet, noticing the tea that indeed sat on the small table between them.

"Well, sit down, Josh." Simon smiled invitingly.

To be fair, Josh liked Simon. Of course he'd been warned about him, but with Josh he was nothing like what anybody had told him. He was nice, he joked, they talked a lot. Sometimes he was a bit weird with words, but that was a detail.

Really, he enjoyed Simon's company. He sat down, and Simon beckoned him to take a cup of tea.  
Josh did. The tea was boiling.  
He watched Simon sip it as if it was nothing.  
Scots.

"So, Josh, remember when you arrived here?" Simon smiled.

"You mean when I arrived in New York or when I was with Dan?"

"Both." Simon shrugged.

Josh shrugged too, stirring the tea.

"Of course."

"I remember very well. I asked your name and you refused to say it. Then you told me you were a runaway and I understood." Simon mused. 

Josh reminisced.  
When he arrived in New York he had twelve dollars. He was looking for a relative called Marc.  
It had been two weeks he'd ran away from home. The thought alone made him shudder ; just thinking about home made him have flashbacks. Small surges of adrenalin. Blood in his eyes.  
Josh brushed it off. 

"A Franceschi, I told myself, bah! Another one better off dead." Simon shrugged. "Then I thought, and after all, you know, the twins' mother, she was a snitch. Snitches make good, loyal offspring, it seems. Especially when they're snitching on other people."

Josh tensed. 

"Of course now I would never think like that." Simon laughed a bit. "What happened to your family is terrible, Josh." He said more seriously, his eyes seemingly reading through Josh. "I've never truly gotten around to telling that to you. I've been there. Wouldn't wish it on anyone." 

Strangely, the last part sounded half-hearted. Which was weird, because Josh knew that Simon's family had indeed been killed, and that Simon had seen his father die.  
He chose to ignore it, and tried the tea again.

"Anyway." Simon moved on. "I think, within your time here, you've given me a reason to trust you a little bit, and that's very important."

"Thank you, Simon." Josh said quickly, and Simon just tilted his head.

"That's why" Simon continued, "I think you should have a little more responsibilities. Like doing less boring killing, and more managing. You'll be paid more, be more in control of what contracts you have to do, and you'll have less physical activity."

It actually sounded pretty exciting. Josh couldn't keep himself from smiling.

"Oh that would be great! Thank you, Simon!" He exclaimed. 

"It's nothing." Simon waved off. "You're doing good work. By the way, you and Jimbo should go make the inspection of a warehouse in higher manhattan. I fear some homeless guys might have started squatting the building."

"Jimbo... Jimbo and I?" Josh repeated, suddenly in a less good mood. Was Simon crazy?

"Yes." Simon put down his empty cup. "You seem to have some disagreements and I'm sure a little excursion together will only do good to the two of you." He smiled.

Oh dear. It was just like when Maman would force him to go on walks with Elissa when they argued.  
Josh stopped himself. He shouldn't think about this, all that it ever did was make him miserable. 

"Uh... Yes, sure. I'll just... Go see James in his office. Thanks for the tea." He put down his cup. "And the promotion."

Simon just smiled conciliantly. 

"It's nothing, Josh."

When he got back out, Josh took a big breath. He was going to have to face an angry Jimbo and honestly it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but he had to do it indeed.  
He walked past Francesca again and headed towards the twins' office, which was on the same floor.  
He took a big breath, and knocked.

"Get in!"

Jimbo was sitting at his desk, rubbing a crowbar with bleach. He was still a little red in the face. At the other end of the room, Ben sat with his feet on the desk, reading a magazine about cooking. Josh retained that information.  
There were bowls full of cat food near his desk, and a big grey cat slept on the desk.  
Another cat, ginger this time, popped up from under Jimbo's desk, and hissed at Josh.  
Josh hated cats, but he especially hated this one. Its name was OJ and it was the worst bastard cat the world hosted. Josh was pretty sure Jimbo had trained it to hate him.

He took his eye off the aggressive cat, focusing back on the other angry redhead that probably wanted his death right now.  
Indeed, Jimbo was glaring at him.

"What are you doing here again?"

Josh would have back away, but those were Simon's direct orders so he had to comply. 

"Simon wants us to do the inspection of a warehouse together." Josh said quickly.

"Together?" Jimbo immediately snapped. 

"He said it to me, right to my face."

Jimbo looked like he was boiling from the inside, which was a rather comical sight. 

"Well I guess we have to do this." He stood up sharply, checking his gun and pushing the crowbar in his belt. 

He put on his coat with the gestures of someone who's about to explode, and grabbed his hat. Josh patiently waited. 

"We're going." Jimbo barked, walking out. 

Josh nodded and followed him without a word.  
Once they were in the street they started walking fastly towards Jimbo's car, an old S-Class Mercedes Benz.  
Josh sat in the passenger seat, making himself small as they buckled their seatbelts. Jimbo started the car and drove out towards northern Manhattan. 

"One thing has to be clear" he said as they drove steadily, "I'm your superior. Just because you got a promotion doesn't mean you're higher or even _equal_ to me. Understand?"

Josh decided to play it humble and just nodded.

Jimbo parked the car in a calm street - well calm in appearance.  
They got out of the car and James locked it.

They started walking side to side towards the warehouse, Jimbo fiddling with his keys.

"Also don't think that just because you are in good posture with Simon right now, you'll be in his good papers forever." Jimbo said curtly. "I know Simon. One day he likes you, the next he screws you over. Especially if he has a reason to."

"I know that." Josh finally said, irritated. "I may be younger than you Jimbo, but I'm not dumb."

"You're not clever either."

Josh wanted to hit him, but he swallowed his pride. This was no time for a fight. 

They reached the warehouse and James was about to put the key in the padlock when he saw something.  
Josh looked in the same direction.  
Leaning on the wall of the warehouse, there were two young men smoking.  
One was very small, the other had messy hair and scruffy stubble.

Lee Malia and Max Helyer. 

Josh almost jolted. What were they doing here?  
They were side-eyeing Jimbo, snickering, pointing at him almost. 

Jimbo put the key in the lock.

"I don't want my hands dirty. Go give them a lesson."

"What?!" Josh jumped.

"Go give them a lesson. Now." James ordered, his eyes cold and his tone inquisitive.

Max and Lee were stepping towards them now. 

"I... why?!" Josh didn't want to beat up Max. Or Lee. They'd spent good times together. All that for a bad look?

"Because I'm telling you to." Jimbo growled.

Josh had to comply. Jimbo was five inches shorter than him but he was terrifyingly strong and good with blades. He didn't want to get stabbed. Jimbo WOULD stab him.

He advanced towards the two men, looking as threatening as possible.

"Piss off from here, you have nothing to do in this neighbourhood." He barked.

"Whoah, Josh, calm down!"

They were drunk. Probably that bloody party. Josh wondered why they'd gotten out, it was only 6 PM. 

"Listen, get out of here or I'm gonna have to slice into you." Josh said aggressively.

"Whoah." Lee's face fell, and he immediately stormed off, for some reason. 

Max, however, stayed.

"I'm giving you one last chance to take off or you're getting a pounding." Josh shoved him. 

"I'd love to get pounded by you." Max slurred, a stupid smile onto his face.

Josh froze for a moment.  
Was the guy serious or was it another bad drunk joke?  
Then he remembered James was watching.

"Just go or I'll have to beat you up." He hissed at Max.

"I'm here, I do... I do what I want!" Max declared. "Shit off, dandy boy! You and yer... Little ranga back there."

Josh pushed Max against the wall of the warehouse, slamming his body on it. Max just giggled.  
Josh rose his fist, ready to strike him.

His arm stayed in the air.  
He couldn't. He just couldn't. Not Max.

"What the _hell_ are you waiting for?!"

Jimbo's screeching voice broke the silence. He stomped over to Max and Josh and grabbed the latter by the collar.

"What are you doing?"

"Jimbo, it's hard!"

"You know NOTHING about hardship, Franceschi!"

Max took to occasion and ran away.  
Jimbo didn't seem to care.

"You think hitting a guy is hard? Then what are you doing here? You know what's hard? Sleeping on the streets every night. Eating rat. Lying onto your brother to warm him up because he's turning blue. That's hard."

Jimbo's eyes were on fire.

"Why can't you hit that dude? Are you in love with him? You're a fucking faggot, that's what you are."

And Jimbo slapped him.  
Josh held his cheek. The strike had been harsh. And humiliating.  
Jimbo turned around. 

"I'll finish this alone. Go back home, you're not fucking needed."

Josh, shocked, couldn't even answer. Jimbo back walked towards the door and disappeared inside the warehouse.

Josh retreated back home and stopped himself thinking of anything.

\--

Josh mopped around for about two days, during which he received no calls, not even from Dan.  
Exceptional.  
He just lay in bed doing nothing, seeing no one, which was extremely unusual.  
The slap still burnt in his memory.  
It was just... So humiliating.  
The fact that he wasn't even worth a punch bothered him for some reason. He shouldn't care. It was only Jimbo. But still.

The fact he'd called him a faggot was also something that worried Josh.  
It wasn't that he was gay, because he wasn't, but liking the same sex was badly viewed in the city. Most people who weren't heterosexual ended up starving on the streets. People like Dan were the exception - Dan employed a lot of gay men and women. He had been on the streets for being gay before, so he knew what it felt like, Josh had heard the story a thousand times before.  
Nobody knew Josh had dated Dan. Nobody in the Scottish mob at least.  
Whatever. That was in the past. But Josh didn't want anyone knowing that he was interested in men.

His phone rang as he was remiscing for the thousandth time. He picked it up lazily.

"Hello?"

"Franceschi? Francesca here."

Josh couldn't help thinking how funny that sounded. Franceschi, Francesca...  
Oh dear. He needed human interaction.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Simon's organising a reception. The usual. Tonight. He wants you there."

"Oh? Alright. I'll, uh, I'll be there"

"Great. Good evening, Franceschi."

"Yeah, good evening."

She hung up. Sometimes being phoned by Francesca felt like military review.

Josh put down the phone. It had been a while Simon hadn't organised a reception.  
What he called a reception was basically a modern roman orgy.  
Lots of food, lots of drinks, lots of people, sofas, beds, private rooms. A whole lot of sex.  
Everything was free, everyone was easy.  
Josh had first been invited within his first week in the mob.  
It had been a nice night for sure.  
Josh had woken up in a luxury hotel room with two beautiful girls next to him and an empty champagne bottle on the side table. 

Josh was not sure if he would do that again but he needed to have fun and drink up.

So he was on location at the five star hotel Simon owned, at the right time.  
The reception room was full, people in the middle were dancing, and people on the sides were snubbing.  
A bit further, there were sofas and armchairs gathered, where people were having lap dances or being fed by busty girls or muscly boys. Josh went to have a glass of something. Whatever. Some alcohol.  
Scanning the room, he spotted Benny Johnston, talking about something to someone. To be fair he'd never seen Ben having any real fun at those receptions. Maybe he just waited until most people were gone for some sex to hitch a girl himself. 

His eyes then stopped on Simon, who was disappearing in a private room.  
It was a known fact that Simon was very kinky, that he liked whips and paddles and toys that kind of things. 

Josh wrinkled his nose at the thought. That really wasn't his thing at all.  
His whiskey glass in his hand, he started strolling through the mass of people.  
There were known faces but also a lot of people he had, in fact, never seen. Strangely he caught himself thinking he wanted to spot Max, somewhere.  
Which was absurd because Max definitely wouldn't be invited.  
And... Josh didn't want to be attracted to that guy. Damn. What would it lead to? Quick sex, yeah, and then the guy would get attached and it would be Dan all over again. One Dan was enough. 

As Josh walked towards the second part of the room he saw a sadly familiar face.  
Jimbo Johnston was quickly walking towards the private rooms, in a dark blue suit with a black shirt.  
Black shirt which was half open, revealing an ocean of ginger hair.  
But the most interesting was who he was with.  
Two dark, curly-haired boys were with him. One looked arabic, the other looked spanish, and they were slightly taller than him. His hands quickly grabbed their arses.  
Josh couldn't believe it.

Jimbo had called him a faggot just two days before, and now he was going to have sex with two guys.  
Josh was fuming.  
He wasn't a faggot, Jimbo was.  
Did people know that Simon Neil's right-arm man was gay? Did they know? Or did Jimbo keep it in, explaining the perpetual poker up his arse? 

Josh was angry. Very angry. How could Jimbo get away with this?  
In the end maybe he really had the hots for Simon, which would explain everything.

Josh took more than a sip of whiskey, and turned away. He needed something stronger, also a helping of... Beans. From the buffet.  
There were strange things on the buffet. Curry, beans, even slices of haggis. Scots. 

Josh took the desired helping and started munching down on the beans, keeping his eyes on Benny, who was still talking about whatever he was talking about to a guy that Josh knew was the director of one of the brothels Simon owned.  
Did he know his brother fucked men?  
Maybe not. Benny was so different from Jimbo. Much more calm, head in the stars, he was a genuinely nice chap, Josh had to admit it. He wasn't vicious and controlling like Jimbo.

Josh put down his plate. He couldn't get himself to have fun.  
He just walked mournfully among the crowd, getting a cocktail with some vodka in it.  
Maybe alcohol would help him loosen up and forget about the unfairness of the situation.  
He drank two more cocktails and another whiskey, and considered the idea to go to the toilet.

Suddenly he bumped into someone. 

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Nah, don't be."

Josh knew that voice. He turned his eyes towards the person.  
Max Helyer.  
His hair was even more ruffled than last time he'd seen him, his shirt was dangerously open, and he looked pretty drunk, which suited Josh since he was drunk too.  
What even was Max doing at the party?

"What are you doing here?" Josh stammered.

"It's not too hard to get in there when you... When you know where to get in." Max grinned.

"Oh so now you get in a private party?"

"Absolutely."

"Why?"

"Well, look at all those hot guys... Hot butts... Hot bulges... So, so hot." Max slurred, stepping closer to Josh.

"Yeah- I doooon't really know." Josh playfully smiled. He didn't know what the hell he was doing but he thought he sounded smooth, which was the main thing.

"You don't? I thought you loved boys..."

Max was dangerously close to Josh now.

"I do, I do." Josh quickly said.

"Cause... Really, there's only one boy I'm interested in, here..." Max whispered.

"Oh... Really?"

"Yeah... Wanna know?"

Josh was about to say yes, but Max suddenly straightened up, as if he'd been pulled up by puppet strings. His eyes escaped from Josh's gaze and he wobbled a bit on the balls of his feet.

"Shite." He mumbled, looking in the direction of the service door in the back of the room, from where two henchmen had gotten out. "That's S-Neil's men. Gotta go, sweetheart. See ya." 

And before Josh could say anything or protest, Max turned away and disappeared in the crowd of people.  
Josh stayed there, staring drunkenly.

"Fuck tonight." He mumbled.

He'd gladly have done with a fuck, it was a shame. He needed affection. And closeness. Damn. He felt lonely as hell.  
Now the cutest guy in the room was gone. 

Josh leaned face against the wall. His head kind of hurt.  
He didn't realise that most of the night had gone by then ; he caught a glimpse of Benny lighting a cigarette and walking out, alone. Josh followed suit shortly after, coming back home to doze off in a bitter kind of drunken sleep.


	3. Fresh Start Fever

When Josh found out the day after that he would have to work with Jimbo, it felt like a particularly bad hammer strike on his hungover head.

"I've noticed you and Jim are having difficulties but I'm sure you can overcome them. You're very alike in some points, actually." Simon had affirmed with a falsely unknowing kind of smile.

The literal scoundrel.  
Now Josh was sitting in Jimbo's car again, and the air was so thick with tension you could have cut through it.

They were driving towards the Queens. They had a guy to kill, but not really an easy one. Jimbo was obviously discontent because Benny wasn't here to help him ; Josh knew for a fact Jimbo didn't like to kill alone.  
He fiddled, and his eyes dragged over to the red headed man.

Jimbo's buttoned up shirt collar struggled to hide the line of hickeys on his neck. Josh thought of the boys he'd seen Jimbo with the night before and refrained from commenting.  
If Dan had taught him one thing, it was to never out a fellow queer, even if you cannot stand them.  
The hickeys were pretty big and of a purplish colour. The fucker had had a good time.  
Thinking of that painfully reminded Josh of the fact he'd not had a fuck for two months, and that Max had slipped between his fingers just the day before.

The car came to a halt in a derelict part of Queens.  
Jimbo and Josh hopped out the car, and Josh silently followed Jim. He led him towards a particularly shifty-looking strip club and they got in.  
The music was blaring through the speakers. There were quite a lot of people there. Jim didn't pay at the entrance - neither did Josh. The owner seemed to know the redhead and he said nothing.

Girls were wriggling and heaving themselves around poles, half naked, men hollering at them. Jimbo seemed unimpressed, which comforted Josh in his idea that he was a gold star gay. Even Josh got a bit flustered by that one blond girl dancing on that table.

Jimbo took him out back. From there, they ended up in a small court where a girl was smoking. They strolled past her, still silently, Josh dragging his fingers his gun and knife.  
Jimbo pushed a door open and they went through it, finding themselves in an alcove near the back alley of another strip club.

The street was silent and desert, but Jimbo stood there, and Josh knew Jimbo knew what he was doing.

A few seconds later a door opened and a tall guy got out, smoking a cigarette.

"Shoot him in the arm." Jimbo hissed in Josh's ear.

Josh obeyed. He got out his gun, aimed and shot.

It didn't hit the guy.  
Josh blinked.  
It hadn't hit him, for some reason.  
Josh didn't understand. He was a good shot-

"Fuck!" Jimbo swore, shoving Josh and grabbing his gun.

He shot several times at the guy, who'd shielded himself behind a dumpster.  
Jimbo swore again as he ran out of bullets.

"What are you doing? Go get him!" Jimbo yelled.

Josh ran, the redhead on his heels. The man tried to make a run for it, but Josh tackled him.  
They both collapsed to the ground and Jimbo got out his crowbar, rising it to hit the guy as Josh scrambled for his knife. Suddenly the crowbar flew. The guy had managed to roll onto his back. Jimbo yelped, holding his wrist. The guy jumped at him. Josh got a hold of his knife and stabbed him in the hip. The guy screeched.

"Shut up!" Josh muttered, and the guy held his hip in pain. Jimbo took the occasion to roll back and grab his weapon again, as the guy punched Josh in the stomach.

Folded in two, Josh stepped back, holding his bloody knife, trying to stab the guy in the knee ; but his breath was cut.  
Suddenly there was a sharp cry and a splatter of blood ; the guy collapsed at Josh's feet, his skull bashed in.

Behind him stood a red-faced Jimbo, blowing air heavily out of his nose, his eyebrow scratched and his bloody crowbar in his hand.

"Fucking finally." he hissed.

Josh straightened up, holding his stomach. Jimbo looked up at him and made no comment.

"Leave him here." he just said.

Josh was apparently not supposed to know what this was all about.

"Jesus, I need a drink." Jimbo sighed, checking himself for blood. "Come on."

\--

"And... And bam, she fell right onto her face."

Jimbo finished his third cigarette of the night and took a sip of his fourth beer.  
Josh took notice of the fact that his boss absolutely couldn't handle alcohol.  
He'd unpacked his whole crime life to Josh from the third glass ; now he was bragging about how he'd beaten up a prostitute. Not very glorious, but right now, nothing looked less glowing than Jimbo Johnston, half collapsed on that dirty counter, dishevelled and sweaty, slurring out incoherent tales of sordid kills.

Jimbo's eyes dragged across the room, stopping on a couple, embraced and making out at a table. He made a grossed out face and returned to his glass as Josh's gaze lingered on the lovers.

"You- You ever been in love, Franceschi?" Jimbo mumbled, looking into his whiskey.

Josh stirred his drink. Jimbo was very drunk.  
Josh thought of Dan briefly, but he wasn't going to just tell Jimbo he'd dated Dan, firstly because Dan was a man, secondly because Dan was Dan, and that was self-evident.

"I don't know. I- don't think so."

Jimbo nodded exaggeratedly to himself.

"Not even that faggot Max Helyer?" He smirked into his glass.

Josh froze for a second.

"Obviously not."

Josh was glad he wasn't drunk enough to be spouting out inepties like Jimbo was. He could have dropped that he liked men, out of the blue.  
Jimbo took a sip of alcohol, staring into the amber, leaning his head onto his hand, collapsed on the counter.  
He definitely looked a right mess, nothing like the rigid figure Josh knew.

"I..." Jimbo started. "I've been in love. Like at least once. It's a wonderful little thing, it is."

Josh didn't know why Jimbo was telling him this, but he listened on. Some of that could be useful.

"'Was like, 17. 'Was well whored out by then. Ben doesn't know. We just needed food, so I did what I had to do I guess." Jimbo muttered.

Josh froze. He didn't know Jimbo had had to sell himself too. It wasn't all that surprising as much as it was disturbing and could explain why Jimbo was a complete control freak. He felt a strange and unpleasant connection to Jimbo now, and it was highly undesirable.

"'Lost my virginity at 14. T'wasn't a nice thing. Anyway. He was a whore too. A pretty little piece of flesh that is."

Josh's heart almost stopped. Had Jimbo just admitted he was a homosexual?

"Wait, you're gay?" He feigned surprise.

Jimbo let out a wry laugh, rubbing his nose roughly. His usually perfectly flat hair had curled up wildly, and Josh could see that it was really not straight naturally.

"I guess I just hate girls." Jimbo grimaced.

"You called me a faggot!" Josh exclaimed, unable to hold back his pent up frustration.

"I did? Oh, I did right? Well it's only the truth."

"Do people even know that you're gay?"

Jimbo chortled, letting his head slide and rest onto his arm.

"I'm not gay."

He laughed to himself again.  
Josh actually found it sad. Jimbo was unassuming and lying to himself. In the end, Josh was more glad than ever about not being Jimbo.

"Mm, so tell me about that guy you were with." Josh ironised.

Jimbo, as was planned, did not pick upon the mockery. He just snivelled and suckled onto his bottom lip.

"Oh well if you want to know 'bout it... He was a beautiful boy, he was. Think he was Greek or Cypriote of some kind. He scavenged food for me. Twas nice. I wasn't very thick back then, kinda skeletal in fact, y'see we don't have food in the street, so we sorta starved, not like you and yer... Banquets of sorts."

Josh rolled his eyes.

"Anyway. He fed me, warmed me up, kissed me. Made love to me, THAT was nice. Anyway, marry, I loved him."

"And then?"

"And then a customer killed him and butchered him up." Jimbo said neutrally.

Josh felt a pang of horror in his stomach.  
Jimbo's face stretched with a mad smile at the sight of Josh's decomposed expression.

"See? Y'don't know nothing about hardship, Franceschi, nothing, I tell ye, nothing, you know... Nothing." He slurred, pointing at Josh ostensibly. "The world's a terrible place. "

Josh couldn't even retaliate. He couldn't even talk about his parents, about Elissa, about the first year in New York - Jimbo would hold it in contempt, he knew it.  
The redhead groaned, leaning his face against the countertop.

"I loved him. Love is such a beauuutiful thing, Franceschi. But it hurts a lot. It does." Jimbo seemed vaguely reflective, and it oozed through him that he wasn't telling Josh everything.

Josh didn't know what it was but despite his drunkenness, Jimbo was still hiding something.  
Josh didn't fancy knowing. Seeing how crude Jimbo was tonight, it could just be a vivid tale of a fuck.  
Jimbo groaned again and rolled his forehead softly against the counter.

"Anyway, Franceschi... Call Ben to pick me up. I'm fucking pissed."

He pushed his phone towards Josh and fell asleep altogether, right there, face down on the counter.

"Alright..." Josh muttered.

He could have done with an easier night.

\--

"This chick is the girlfriend of Pablo Rossi. You know about Rossi."

Jimbo was holding a picture of a girl dangerously close to Josh's face. Josh supposed Jimbo wanted to asphyxiate him but was not quite sure if he wanted to take the step.  
The girl was blond. Common. Josh shrugged ostensibly

"Yeah. So what?"

"Simon asked me to kill her. I don't have time for that. You're gonna kill her, real clean and real scary."

"And why should I do that?"

Benny was non-discretely peering at them from above a cat magazine.

"Because you owe me it." Jimbo's voice sounded like a standard whine. "And because I fucking ask you to."

Ah yes. Lee.  
Josh groaned.

"That's just not the good way to answer to that." Jimbo commented wryly. "Have her dead by tomorrow. Here is the file."

Josh almost ripped the file from Jimbo's hands, making sure he felt his irritation.  
But Jimbo barely cared. He went back behind his desk, shooing OJ who had settled on his seat.  
Josh hated those cats and he hated Jimbo.  
He wasn't that smug the other night, slumped on that bar counter like the worst of drunks, mumbling as Ben tried to rip him from the stool. Ben had dragged him away and into his car, thanking Josh and leaving him at the bar to fend for himself.

Josh knew one thing : Jimbo was a mess. He was a closeted homosexual, a boot licker, an overall annoyance, and he owned six cats.  
At least Josh wasn't that lost in his life.

He clutched the file, and exited without bidding goodbye.  
He wanted to bash the twins' heads in - yes, even Benny. After all he was an accomplice to all of this, he cautioned Jimbo.  
Josh went down the two small steps to the lobby where Francesca was dealing with a blond man. Josh decided to go study the file to see where the girl could be found - Jimbo had done all the prep work for him.

He figured that catching her on the way back home in the evening was the best way to do it.  
Josh closed the file and decided to go get ready.

Two hours later he was waiting on her, his gun and knife at the ready. He had had to jack off a boner earlier, because he had thought of Max and damn, it was true the boy had gotten hot. He kept on his mind. Josh fancied having him in his bed with his little butt lifted and... yummy.  
Oh dear he needed a fuck.

The girl was supposed to walk by in about ten minutes.  
Josh leaned back on the wall, looking at the few people walking by. There were a few tramps too. He threw a coin at the youngest one, which was also the closest one. The teenager thanked him profusely. Josh wondered if the kid also had to sell his arse. He thought of what Jimbo had said. 14 was young for a loss of virginity. But Josh knew for a fact the perverts from this town could pay grands just to be able to deflower a prepubescent teenager.  
Obviously Jimbo had not been paid that much for his cherry.

Something pulled him from his thoughts - the girl was there. She turned round the corner. Josh let her go ahead and then started walking the same way, vaguely checking out his phone. She was right there... She turned again, towards her house. Josh waited a few seconds behind the corner, just the time for her to look for her keys. He took his knife out.

Suddenly, a very soft "pop" in the silence. Some shuffling.  
Josh peeked.

What he saw made his heart jump.  
Max Helyer, gun in hand, kneeling with the dead body of the girl to his side, his hand on her mouth.  
Max Helyer with HIS job.

Josh ran over so fast it could gave seemed he was walking on burning embers.

"What the fuck?! What are you doing?!"

Max looked up, his wide eyes filled with an annoying amount of pretend innocence. He did not even look surprised to see him.

"Oh, looks like I was a bit quicker than you, wasn't I?" He smirked.

Josh was fuming.

"She's MY job!"

"Not anymore." Max shot him an insolent smile, and without a word, he ran away, leaving Josh stunned.

\--

The second slap Josh took from Jimbo Johnston was much harder than the first one.  
The first time, it had been a slap of frustration. A stupid little slap for a stupid little thing ; if anything, it had been more humiliating than actually hurtful.

But this time, Jimbo was red in the face, his eyes flush and swollen, tear tracks staining his cheeks and his whole body trembling in anger.

Josh had never suspected such strength to inhabit Jimbo's lean, scrawny body. He was pretty sure he would have a black eye. From a slap.

"You- you little CUNT!"

James had been crying. He looked very ugly when he cried. His face turned an obnoxious shade of red, his nose doubled in size, his ears flushed up like decaying butterflies.

"You ruined EVERYTHING!"

"Come on, Jim, he's not worth it."

Josh thanked god for Benny sometimes.

"Don't-" Jimbo sniffled like a child. "It's none of your business, okay?"

Benny gently grabbed at Jimbo's trembling shoulders.

"Of course it is." He said softly.

Jimbo sobbed, turning his eyes away from Josh, who was cowering against the wall.

"He comes here- he comes here with his- he comes here and he ruins everything."

"Shht. I know."

Benny signed Josh to go, which Josh did. He quickly ran away.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS!" James screamed.

Josh jumped in the elevator. Now that his thoughts were getting clearer, he was realising the full potential of what he had heard just before Jimbo got out in tears, looking like a Greek Tragedy mask, to slap him in the face.

He should not have been eavesdropping, but hearing Jimbo finally get schooled by Simon was a very exciting thought, even if it was theoretically Josh's fault. But Jimbo had the responsibility of the murder. He had delegated to Josh : for Simon, it was Jimbo's fault.  
When Simon had heard that Max had killed the girlfriend of one of his key enemies on behalf of the French mob, he was more than angry.  
Josh understood a bit why Dan thought he was bad news. He heard Simon scream from the other end of the floor. It wasn't a reason for the reputation though - his anger was legitimate.

Jimbo was called in immediately and Josh could not resist to the temptation. But what he heard - he had not expected.

"WHAT does this mean?!"

"Simon, it's Franceschi-"

"FRANCESCHI?! I DON'T CARE! There's a reason I asked YOU to carry this task! IT WAS IMPORTANT! WHAT DOES FRANCESCHI HAVE TO DO WITH THIS?"

"He's-"

"I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T CARE, YOU USELESS LITTLE WHORE!"

Josh heard some shuffling, as if someone had fallen to the ground.

"S-Simon... How can you- I thought..."

"What did you THINK exactly?! That just because I think you're good enough to fuck on down days you can get away with things?! I have some news for you, Johnston. Last time I checked, you owed me everything. Your life, your job, your brother's life, your security, your home, your possessions - EVERYTHING. Without me you'd be rotting on the pavement right now. I expect FEW things from you. You obey my orders, and you don't make waves. And your worthless little arse can't even do that?"

At this point, Josh was wondering if he had heard well.  
Had Simon just explicitly said he and Jimbo fucked?  
He almost did not hear James' trembling voice rose up again.

"B-But... What about- we..."

"There's no 'we', Johnston. I thought you knew that. God, you're pathetic. Now get the fuck out of my office."

And then it was finished. Josh had not dreamed. Jimbo and Simon were having a sexual relationship. Jimbo and Simon were fucking. Well apparently, Simon used James for fucking.

This explained everything : James's bitterness, the stick up his arse, his jealousy. Honestly, Josh was not surprised about Simon liking men - he was just the type of person. Lustful, charming, not the type to be regarding about what gender the people he fucked were. It was still strange, but he was much more worried about the fact Simon had willingly chosen to fuck Jimbo Johnston. Josh would not put himself anywhere near Jimbo's genitals if his life depended on it. Aside from the known fact ginger pubes smell, Jimbo probably had every STD ever, and he was far from attractive.

Besides, Simon seemed to be completely unashamed of liking men.  
Maybe Josh should not be so afraid about showing his affections.

Josh came back home. He was thinking of Max. The strange mocking smirk - what did Max want? A challenge? A cat-and-mouse game? Was he attracted to Josh or had he just noticed Josh's attraction to him and was now playing with him? Josh did not know.  
Max was so... Strange. There was something playful and twisted about him that his face did not show at first glance.  
Plus something told Josh that however small he may be, in the end, Max was no bottom.  
Josh locked the door behind him and went to crash on the couch. He needed a good wank - and then he would relax with a pot noodle and an old film.  
He was pretty happy about Simon seeing through Jimbo's bullshit, whatever relationship they were in. Josh actually liked Simon.

From the day he had been offered the job, the mob chief had always treated him well.

Simon knew where Josh came from. They were kind of the same on that plane of things. He knew what it felt like. Well - Simon's parents were no snitches. Terence Neil's head been blown up in his own house when Simon was fourteen. Terence Neil. The most powerful crime lord in NYC. Hardly the same as Josh's father.  
But somehow they connected. They got each other's jokes, enjoyed each other's company, and sometimes at the receptions, Simon ordered girls for them to have together.

It was probably what Dan did not get about Simon. Yes, maybe that was it : Simon was a good guy with a bit of an anger problem, like any of them. And, of course, the slightly neurotic package that you get with killing people for a living.

Dan was not like Simon. Josh could not remember why he had wanted to be with Dan. Probably because he had nothing better at hand. He needed to be protected. He was alone, young, and scared. Dan was everything he'd needed : a job, a boyfriend, a protective figure.

But Josh knew Dan now. Dan was not what he needed now. He wasn't what Josh wanted, either. Josh didn't know what he wanted. Hell, he didn't even know if he wanted Max.

Thankfully, he reached home, allowing him to stop thinking of Max and Dan and how much he wanted to get laid - well, that was a permanently underlying thought.  
He went to crash on the couch. He kind of wanted to sleep, but his mind was in ebullition, his thoughts all over the place. He had learned a bit too much that day.

But Josh did not get much of a rest.  
He had been lying on the couch for barely five minutes when a knock was heard on his door.  
He groaned, sighed, and stood up to go drag his feet over to the door.  
He was greeted with a redhead jumping at his throat.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS!"

Josh screamed, and managed to push off the person who had shoved him into the wall.  
Jimbo almost fell over, holding his nose, grabbing at the handle of the door to the stairs to stabilise himself..

"Y-y-you... You fucking faggot. Poofter. P-pathetic... You..."

"Don't fucking dare call me a faggot!" Josh shouted.

Jimbo almost seemed drunk but Josh could tell he was not.  
He was just crying.  
Wow, that was actually saddening.

"I- You can't tell me what to do. You're a f-fucking fag. Bet if your stupid little family was alive they'd fucking disown you for being the little nance you are."

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Josh almost screeched. "You're fucking Simon! I know it! You fuck men! You even told me! And I'M the faggot?"

"You... It's not about me... It's about you... Bet your father fucking raped your little gay ass didn't he? You fucking fag."

Josh punched Jimbo. Blood spurted. It was exhilarating. The sound of his fist hitting Jimbo's ratty little face, the pain up his knuckles as they met Jimbo's cheekbone. Josh had been needing this for too long.  
Jimbo let out a groan. This time his nose was busted. Blood was seeping through his fingers.

"F-fuck... You..."

"Don't you fucking say a word about my family." Josh snapped.

"I'll say whatever ah want." Jimbo mumbled. "Fucking snitches. Bunch of traitors all of em. Like you. A poof and a f...fucking traitor."

"Say that again." Josh growled.

"You're a poof. A literal bastard of a poof. Just like your whole little snitchy family. Oh well, I'm n-not sure they can snitch much more with those holes in their heads."

Josh roared and grabbed Jimbo by the hair, twisting his head around and punching him again. Jimbo almost collapsed. Blood was streaming down his face from his broken nose, blotting in his beard.  
He stumbled back, but stayed standing. Josh pinned him against the wall. Jimbo sniffled, coughed, and rose his head again, meeting Josh's eyes.

"You fucking faggot. You don't even deserve a punch."

And with that Jimbo spat in Josh's face.

The spittle landed in Josh's eye.  
It took him a few seconds to realise what had just happened.  
The spit slid down his cheek slowly, and dripped into his neck.

There was a panting silence. Jimbo's eyes fixed Josh defiantly.  
Josh exhaled.

Then he head-butted Jimbo in the face.  
The redhead had a gasp, and then collapsed onto the ground like a rag doll.

Josh stepped back immediately and silently stared at Jimbo.  
He was not moving. Blood was dripping down his cheek from his nose and his eyebrow looked bashed.  
Josh slowly crouched down and took Jimbo's pulse.

He was just passed out.  
Josh stayed still for another ten seconds until Jimbo moved.  
The redhead put his hand to his face.

"F-fuck."

"Get the fuck away from me, Jimbo." Josh growled.

Jimbo could barely open his eyes. He looked pretty pathetic.

"I- I'm gonna tell S-Simon. He's- shh- shgonna fire th'fuckchata you."

Jimbo spat blood onto the marble floor.

"Yeah, as if." Josh said as Jimbo stood back up.

"Y-yeah well we'll see."

Jimbo managed to stabilise himself and opened the stairs' door.

"You're a fucking faggot." Jimbo said, and slammed the door.

Josh stayed there, boiling. He did not even have the heart to go after Jimbo, because the redhead was right. He was in enough trouble already.  
It took him a good two hours to calm down. Some tea, ramen, and a Buster Keaton film. It was what Josh did back in Corsica when he had a problem. Tea, pot noodle, old films. It calmed him down. And then Elissa would come sit next to him, and kicked him in the shins for the laughs, and put on a stupid chick flick that Josh complained about but really liked.

Josh tried to refocus. Thinking of Elissa always made him so bloody sad.  
Jimbo didn't know anything about Josh's life.  
Now that Josh thought about it, Jimbo would probably kill himself if Benny were to die. Did Jimbo even know about Elissa? It's easy to make a joke out of someone's family dying until you relate.  
Jimbo had never known his parents : he did not know what it was like to lose them. The cheek of it! How could he pretend not having parents was worse than seeing them die. At least Dan understood that. They had the same story.

Josh took another mouthful of noodles.  
He glanced out the bay window.  
There was a car down there in the street.  
A car that he knew.  
No- it couldn't be.  
It had to be a coincidence.

Josh stood up, and stumbled towards his room.  
He hastily opened the chest's first drawer, pushed the t-shirts away and took his father's gun from there.

He glanced back and stuck the gun in his pocket.  
He went to look again. It was still there. There was someone at the wheel too.  
Josh exhaled by his nose.

Someone got out of the car.  
Josh jolted, and checked his pockets for his knife. The door was safely locked, but Josh knew this was no disuasion.  
He knew those people.  
A simple door would not stop them.  
He waited like that for several minutes, and then heard the staircase door open.  
There were steps just outside. Josh prepared his gun.  
The steps approached, slowly. The TV was still on.  
Josh nervously grasped the gun.  
How had they found him? Were they willing to anger Simon Neil? How much had they been paid for that?  
How much did the French mob want Josh dead?

There were small noises.  
The guy had a key.  
He had a key and he was opening the door. Josh had never given a key to anyone, not even the concierge.  
He prepared himself.

The door slammed open and Josh shot.  
There was a scream and the man collapsed.  
Josh blindly crushed the man's hand with his heel. A gun spun away on the wooden floor.

Then he looked.  
The man was middle aged, dressed in black. The very man Josh had seen exiting the car. He was not moving.  
Josh quickly checked if he was really dead, and then went through his pockets. Obviously fake French papers, a knife... Josh's address, and a wad of banknotes. Josh stripped him of his belongings and hauled the body over to the stairs.  
He threw it in the trash disposer and listened to it tumbling down in the conduit.  
He stared at it for a couple of seconds, his heart beating wildly.

They had found him.


	4. Forgive and Forget

Josh was pretty shaken when he entered the bank the following day.  
He had been called in by Simon - again.  
As if being attacked twice in a few hours was not enough, Josh had not managed to get any sleep that night, instead judiciously worrying about the man who had tried to kill him. The bounty hunter, not the redhead regular at the 'Let's slap Josh senseless' club.  
Those people were never alone. If one failed, another came to try their luck. Josh knew that all too well. He had learnt it the harsh way. Someone ought to have commanded them, and it was not too hard to find out who would pay grands to see Josh Franceschi dead on the floor.

Now, not only was he plagued with paranoïa from that very obvious danger, but Jimbo had apparently kept his promise and ratted him out to Simon.  
Which was no good. Josh wanted to be appreciated by Simon. And not just because getting on the man's wrong side could easily get your intestines made into dog chow. Josh, again, genuinely liked Simon, and it would have upset him to lose Simon's trust. 

Anyway, it was a pretty bad day in perspective.  
Josh took the lift up to Simon's office and was attended to by Francesca, who had a new gun and was displaying it brazenly at her waist.  
Josh walked up to Simon's door and looked up at Terence Neil above the door. His severe eyes cast a spine-chilling shadow onto Josh. 

Josh hoped Simon was not too angry.

"Come in." The man's voice shouted inside.

Josh did as he was told, and entered the room.  
Simon was leaning on his desk, clad in an outrageously pink suit with a half-buttoned white shirt. He did not make eye contact with Josh right away. What a great way to start. Josh was about to spend a really bad half hour. 

Simon walked round his desk slowly, as Josh shyly stepped in, closing the door.

"So... I've got some bad reports about you, Franceschi, right?"

Josh said nothing. He looked down at the floor.  
He heard Simon pace a bit closer, calmly, frighteningly so - Josh had never felt so uneasy in Simon's presence. Now that he had seen, or rather heard, what Simon's anger was like, he had to admit he was much more scared of the man than he was before. Even if Simon would never hurt him, right?

"I've been told you broke Jimbo Johnston's nose."

Josh held his breath as Simon came yet closer.

"Is that true? Did you break Jimbo's nose?"

Josh internally panicked. What should he say? Oh dear, Josh had attacked his superior, what was he expecting?

"Did you do it? You broke Jimbo's nose?" Simon insisted dangerously.

"Yes." Josh let out. "I did."

He stood still, shuddering for a second, before Simon answered.

"Good." he simply said.

Josh's head shot up. Good?  
Simon had a smug smirk on his face. He had gotten out a cigarette.

"I'm sorry - good?" Josh stammered.

Simon lit up the cigarette and shot a jeering glance at him.

"Yes. Good."

Josh tried to hide his surprise, unsuccessfully so. Simon took a drag, still wearing a strangely jubilating smile.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this to happen!" he exclaimed.

"He's your right-arm man?"

"Oh, he is. And he is going to remain it. Jimbo is useful." Simon looked at the tip of his cigarette. He held it like a joint, between his fingertips. "He's got so much rage - bless, you don't have that. May be better for you, he's not a very happy person."

Josh tried to decrypt the look on Simon's face. Not much betrayed the fact he slept with Jimbo, apart from his words. 

"I wouldn't break his nose, though, but you did it, so that saves me the regret."

There was a silence.

"However." Simon said.

Josh held his breath. He knew it could not end up that well. Of course.

"However, I have heard bad things about you."

Josh stayed silent. Simon turned towards him again. 

"I know you should not have been the one on Rossi's girlfriend, but you still let her slip and into the hands of an independent working for the French... Independent whom I've heard you might have a soft spot for."

Josh's heartbeat fastened dramatically. Jimbo. Jimbo had squeaked the whole lot, the little cunt. Obviously on the pillow talk. Josh bet Simon was not the kind of man to stay in the morning, though. Too much dignity, probably. Especially regarding someone like Jimbo. Pathetic pile of crap.

"If you prioritise your own needs over what you owe me, Josh, we're not going to be in good terms. Do you understand that?"

Josh nodded quickly.

"Yes. Of course."

"Are you sure?" 

Simon's eyes were dark and wide ; bleak, cold. A long shiver ran up Josh's back - the man was scary, he really was, Josh could see it now that those eyes swallowed him. Simon had his ways.  
Josh shuffled uneasily. Of course, of course Jimbo had made Josh look like the bad guy there, of course Simon just wanted his stuff to go right, but it was still pretty frightening to be looked at like that. Josh felt a pang of actual anxiety in his chest, reminiscent of the night before.

"Yes, yes I am, sir." Josh murmured cautiously.

"Are we good about this?" Simon insisted.

"We are. I am, we are. I am very sorry, it won't happen again.

Simon scrutinised Josh's face a few seconds more, and then promptly stepped back.

"Yes... Franceschi, I'm counting on you. Give me a reason to keep trusting you." He said, oddly softly. 

When Josh shuffled out, a puff of anger overcame him, heating his cheeks and ears. Jimbo. It was his fault. Always Jimbo. Josh was fed up. He had had enough. No more would he let Jimbo stand on his feet. That time was finished. It had to be. This was a declaration of war, and boy did Josh know how to wage one.

He decidedly headed to the twins' office, each step slapping the wooden floor loudly, and opened the door without knocking.  
As planned, Ben was alone there, working. Perfect.

Ben rose his head from his papers

"Knocking ain't for dogs, Franceschi."

"I thought you might want to know something." Josh said loudly.

Benny frowned. It looked funny on his bald head. Josh felt adrenaline rise.

"It's about Jimbo."

Benny almost spasmed off his chair in panic.

"What? What happened? Is it bad? Where is he?" He immediately spouted out.

Cute. Josh only found it exasperating in the heat of the moment, though. He was more than angry : he was furious and ready to fight.

"It's nothing like that. He's fine as far as I know."

"Huh?"

Josh walked on and set his hands on Benny's desk. Benny glanced down at the hands, clearly disapproving of the gesture. Josh could hardly care less. He could feel his blood pumping into his temples.

"Have you ever seen Jimbo with a woman, Benny?"

Benny frowned again. Josh almost laughed maniacally. His hands were almost shaking, but he managed to hold them still steadily against Benny's desk - right hand next to a small day calendar illustrated with pictures of kittens, left hand on a book stained with old dried blood. 

"What are you on about, Franceschi?"

"Answer. You haven't, have you?"

"Why are you interested in this?"

"You never saw him with a woman."

Benny's eyes betrayed him. They were shining, gleaming : of course he had never seen James with a woman. 

"Why are you asking?" Benny shouted. "I..."

"Why do you think it is so? Why do you think you've never seen him with a woman?" Josh saw the jaws of his trap slowly close onto Benny's shoulders, he saw the growing panic in his eyes...

"I don't know, it's his problem! I'm not- i don't follow him everywhere he goes! Why are you so obsessed with him, Franceschi?" Ben's voice had climbed a pitch. This was a lie, a fat lie, and Josh loved it. He felt all-powerful, it was like the sentences were forming in his brain pn their own, wonderfully smooth and sultry.

"Now, now, Benny, I'm sorry but I'll have to tell you something."

Benny seemed ready to explode.

"What?! What?!"

Josh could drop it at any time. Ben obviously feared it. Nobody wanted a homosexual for a brother. Not here, especially. Ben had to suspect it. He was obviously ignoring it, hoping it was not true... But when he would be sure of it, he would have to face it. And Josh knew it could only end badly for Jimbo.  
Perfect.

"Jimbo's a fag. I saw him. He told me. You know it's true." 

Silence. Ben stared blankly at Josh.

"What do you mean?"

This was it. Ben would see Jimbo, he would scream at him, tell him of how disgusted he was, and Jimbo would feel like the piece of shit he really was.  
Josh did not care how Jimbo would come to that realisation, what was important was that he would get to it. 

"Jimbo's a homosexual. I think you ought to know."

"How do YOU know?!" Benny screamed, suddenly standing up.

The desk hobbled with the brutal movement. 

"That night he was drunk he told me. At the party he went away with two really young men. Come on, Benny, it's obvious. You cannot keep ignoring it."

It was like someone had set Benny off, like a bomb. His smile had disappeared, his face had reddened. Josh was already rejoicing in the image of Jimbo's rat-like face decomposing at the sight of his twin's anger.

"So you've come here to try and tell me my twin brother's a homosexual, huh?"

Josh tilted his head.

"Just thought you would like to know- I know it's hard-"

Josh could not finish his sentence. Benny's uppercut hit him in the jaw like a wrecking ball.  
Josh, stunned by the hit, stumbled back, pain rippling up his cheek and neck and round his skull.  
A hand grabbed him at the collar and flung him across the small room effortlessly. Josh slammed against the wall and collapsed, his eyesight a buzzing, blurry screen. 

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

Josh could see Ben's shadow hovering over him through the could of spots in front of his eyes.

"What were you trying to do? Turn me against James is it? You know FUCK ALL! Do you think I did not suspect what he was? I'VE LIVED WITH HIM ALL MY LIFE. I saw how he looks at men. I HEARD HIM CRY. And- and you think I CARE?"

Josh tried to prop himself back up but the punch had disrupted his equilibrium.

"You think I would push away the person I care the most about just because... Just because he's... what he is? You REALLY do? I'm NOT like you, Franceschi. I'm not like ANY of you. You won't use me against James. I'm not like you." Benny waved his finger in the fog. "I swear to every fucking god you want - if you try hurting James again, I will shoot you in your mouth."

Josh coughed as he managed to find his way back up onto his knees.

"Get out. Fucking get out. You touch James, you just touch him, I fucking kill you. Come on. Get off your arse and go."

Josh stumbled up, his ears ringing and his sight still screened. He just did what he was told to. His brain was crushed.  
He reeled away, not looking back, and stepped down in the elevator, holding his jaw.  
When he reached the street, he regained some of his spirits. But maybe not all of them, because for some reason, the first thing he thought of was going to see Dan. And he did.

He arrived at the Manhattan LGBT Youth Center about ten minutes later. It was a tall brick building  
and a few teenagers in old clothes were standing around the entrance, passing a cigarette around. Josh staggered inside. He knew the room very well. Ever Since Dan had established it and opened it to the LGBT youth - who constituted 60 % of the homeless teens in the city as the other shelters were French Catholic associations - the shelter had become a landmark of the city. Dan took care of the teens himself sometimes. Josh thought that was partly why he had stayed with Dan for so long. Dan was kind.  
Josh made his way through the flock of teenagers in the main room, and went towards Dan's office, holding his jaw still. Dan spent most of his time there. Josh knocked and leaned onto the wall. 

"Come in!" Dan called.

Josh went along. He opened the door and dragged himself in.

"Jesus Christ, Josh! What happened to you?!"

Dan grabbed him. Josh mumbled something that even he could not understand. He was seated on a sofa. 

"I'll ask a youth to get you some ice. Jesus, you've got a nice bruise going on. Do you want a brandy? I'll get you a brandy."

Dan could really be overprotective sometimes, but Josh needed that right now, probably. At least he had dropped the "darlings".  
He let him give him an ice pack and a brandy. He retrieved the whole of his senses about fifteen minutes later. Dan was looking at him with concern.

"Who did that you? Was it Jimbo?"

"Nah" Josh muttered. "He tried to have beef with me but I broke his nose."

"Did you?"

"He kept calling me a faggot. He's gay himself!"

Dan froze. Oh yeah. Josh had not told him.

"He's gay? He's really gay? How do you know?! Why didn't you tell me?"

Dan hated to be the last to know about a coming out.

"I had lots of things on my mind." Josh sighed. "And yes. Yes, and he sleeps with Simon."

Dan let out a high-pitched scream. Josh winced.

"Oh my GOD. I knew it. I knew the two of them were up each other's arses... I mean I knew Simon was probably like, bi, but fucking Jimbo! Never in my wildest dreams-"

"You have dreams of Jimbo and Simon fucking?" Josh gritted.

"No!" Dan jolted. "You know what I meant. Oh my god, I can't believe this. Jimbo doesn't admit he's gay?"

"He's so unassuming. And I broke his nose. Surprisingly Simon was happy."

"Mm? That's... unsurprising. Simon's got issues. But how did you get the..."

Josh smiled bitterly, putting down the brandy glass on the ebony coffee table.

"Well, I wasn't really happy about Jimbo calling me a faggot just because he can't assume himself. Also he got me in a bit of trouble with Simon..."

"What kind?"

"Nothing. Just missed a kill."

"Max told me -"

"It's not about Max. God, I don't know why you want to match me with him so bad!" Josh exclaimed, maybe a bit too loud to be convincing.

Dan rose his eyebrow and brushed it off.

"Anyway. Continue your story."

"Huh-huh. Well, I wasn't too happy about that. So I mean, I had to find something to make him understand that he can't keep doing that. So I went up to Benny and, like, I told him about Jimbo."

Dan frowned slightly.

"You told him...?"

"I told him that Jimbo was gay. I mean he obviously didn't know, I mean he doesn't even admit it to himself. But he actually knew and I shit you not he pun-"

Josh's head was slapped round right in the jaw. Pain shot up his face again, leaving him shocked.  
Had Dan just slapped him? Actually slapped him?

"What the f-"

"What the fuck were you thinking?! What's the one thing I've told you about community? The one thing I told you NEVER to do?" Dan shouted in his face.

Josh rubbed his jaw, wincing.

"I don't care if Jimbo is a horrible little bastard, I don't care what names he's calling you, I don't care if he drowns kittens or whatever! If Jimbo is gay then there's ONE. RULE. You NEVER, EVER, out someone without their permission! "

Shit. Josh had forgotten Dan's stupid golden rules and codes of honour.

"Jimbo is a dick, granted, but he deserves security just like you! You're fucking lucky Benny knew about it and loves his fucking brother! Jimbo could have died because of YOU. And that's not a good reason to kill someone. Fucking hell Josh!"

Josh was fed up with this moralising.

"Alright, alright, I'm done here. If you don't even want to help me -"

"You fucked up, Josh!" Dan shouted.

"Yeah, whatever. I shouldn't have come here in the first place."

Josh slammed the door as loud as possible and went back home to put an end to that travesty of a day.

\--

"Okay, so, we have one thing to do : capture Abigail Banks."

Jimbo's nose was adorned with a white splint and white plasters. He was not looking at Josh, instead reporting his eyes on the two rookies whose names Josh was pretty sure were Sam and Ross. They were the ones who were going to drive and they had done the watching of the girl.

"What's the story about her?" he asked.

It had been a week since he had punched Jimbo and been punched by Benny and been punched by Dan. The initial anger had worn off, leaving a flood of bitterness in his mouth.  
Jimbo glared.

"None of your business."

"I thought we didn't kill journalists?" Josh called loudly.

"Oh, I can tell Simon you don't like his directives, I bet he'd be absolutely thrilled to hear that from you..." Jimbo jeered.

"There's no need to worry, I bet you'll tell him on the pillow anyway."

Jimbo looked about to edge over but he did not. Something told Josh that Simon had made him feel sorry for attacking him. There was a tense silence, and Jimbo just turned away from Josh. 

"Yes, well, we just have to bring her intact back to Simon. She lives downtown. She will leave home in about an hour and a half, so I motion we take the car. Franceschi, you'll be coming with me. I will tie her up while you immobilise her. I observe, you snatch her."

The dirty work as usual. What else should he expect from Jimbo anyway?  
They took the car down the island, the air was thick with tension. As they reached the proximity of Banks' flat, Josh was left to fend for himself at a street corner and Jimbo would be dropped off further. Josh looked around to kill time. He himself lived in the richer area of the island, but it was nothing compared to this : it was a ghetto of wealth and privilege. There were even security agents - but Abigail Banks did not bother with them, sadly for her.  
There was no luck of finding a hobo here ; they were beaten away with sticks. Uptown, the homeless - whose age range ranked between 10 and 25, as most died after that age or joined gangs - were impossible to ignore. As said before, most shelters were financed by French, Catholic organisations, which only accepted the numerous French homeless population. Scottish and English kids were forced to roam the streets - every shelter built for them was systematically destroyed by the French. They had a monopoly. It annoyed the Johnston twins. Josh remembered being ordered to kill one of the French shelter holders. How sad. Josh did not know that at the time when he arrived. He would have used it to his advantage otherwise instead of sleeping in the street.

Josh recognised her from the photo he'd seen. Not too ugly. She was hurrying up the street. She was going to turn in a small alley to get a taxi up on the other avenue...and that was where Jimbo would be waiting.  
Josh closed in on her. He heard the sound of her heels echoing against the high brick walls.  
Everything happened fast. He grabbed her, silenced her, shoved her to the ground, paralysing her in surprise. Jimbo rushed over, duct taped her ankles, mouth and wrists, as the car's tyres screeched into the alley. The trunk was opened, Josh tossed her in, and they all climbed aboard, hearts beating fast.  
They delivered her to a old warehouse. Josh did not think much of it. He came back home and ordered a pizza.

\--

Matthew Barnes carried in the daily coffee that morning and found his superior Inspector Chris Miller walking back and forth t-like a neurasthenic animal. He was holding a newspaper, his eternal cigarette hanging from his lips, his long hair falling all over his face.  
His desk was a mess just as usual. His nameplate with "Christopher Rafael - Inspector for Manhattan Gang Violence and Organised Crime" was barely visible under a spilt file. The Simon Neil file was however opened on the only free area of the table, where Chris actually worked.

Matt put down the two cardboard cups on his own, much cleaner desk. "Matthew Barnes, Junior Officer for Manhattan Gang Violence and Organised Crime".  
Out the window, a nice morning was rising. They could see the rusty buildings of the island in the distance in some sort of ghostly skyline.

"Hello... What's up today?" Matt asked, taking his coffee and pushing Chris's towards him.

Chris shot him an absent look.

"Huh?"

"You look... preoccupied." Matt hesitated.

Chris still scared him a little bit. He was not that older than him, but he had lived a completely different life.  
He had lived in Manhattan. He had been infiltrated there. And he had survived. Matt was just out of the police academy and it had barely been two months he had been working with Chris on that subject.  
Chris frowned.

"Well, we do have a problem."

"What?" 

"The government just ordered a blocus on the island."

"A what?" Matt almost dropped his coffee.

"I know, right? Last time they did it I was a kid... Terence Neil had just died. They let it up when his son brought back... a semblance of order. As long as those corporate goons have the port secure, they don't care..." Chris mumbled.

"What does it change? I thought we already could not get in."

"Well, we could not. People that still live there have passes and the exits are watched, but now there will be army at the doors... No one gets in, no one gets out. No food, no communications. They're evacuating the important people... The Manhattan Examiner, all that."

"They're just leaving people inside to die? What happened?" Matt was astonished.

Chris killed his cigarette in his overflowing ashtray.

"Look." He chucked the newspaper to Matt.

It was the New York Times.  
"JOURNALIST ABIGAIL BANKS' DEAD BODY LEFT IN FRONT OF THE MANHATTAN EXAMINER'S OFFICES  
Manhattan-born investigation journalist Abigail Banks was found dead in the evening on the sidewalk in front of the Manhattan-based independent newspaper. She had disappeared just the day before on her way to work. The body bears marks of torture -"

"I examined her body two hours ago. " Chris cut him. "There's no doubt who did that, it was extremely sadistic - I've seen people killed just like that when I was in Manhattan - colleagues. I almost ended up like that." He paused thoughtfully. 

Matt waited eagerly. He had this weird morbid shiver in his back.

"That's Simon Neil's work. There's no doubt. If only I knew where to find him - how to get him jailed. Bastard."

"I thought he never killed anymore?"

Chris shook his head.

"Matt, he's a nutcase. Just because we don't find all his victims does not mean he stopped killing. Manhattan is not under our control at all. How many corpses are there at the bottom of the Hudson? in the sewers? We'll probably never know.Anyway, he stepped over the line with that journalist so they declared the blocus."

"Things had been going pretty bad already."

"Yes. Sure. But what bothers me is I don't know why he killed her. It... frustrates me. When I was infiltrated I would know everything - I mean, Dan Flint had a pretty loud mouth. Neil obviously sent his best people to take her - probably one of the twins and the Josh, that Frenchman."

Chris knew so much about everything and everyone, sometimes it made Matt dizzy.

"Maybe she wrote something he did not really like?" Matt suggested.

Chris took his coffee, still frowning his brow.

"I don't know - she was not very controversial, or... maybe... I mean, she did write just a week ago that... You know how that banker's kids disappeared?"

"Yeah?"

"She said it was probably the Scottish mob who had taken them. That they were going to re-enact the old paedo ring from thirty years ago... But I don't think that's enough to kill her..."

"The paedo ring?"

"Yes, you know- don't you?"

Matt shrugged sorrily.  
Chris sighed, and rubbed his forehead with his palm.

"God, you're too young. Sit down, I'll explain."

They both sat around on the sofa for a while. Chris had taken out Terence Neil's file. 

"It was a strange time - the mobs had a bit less control than they have now, but there were much more normal people living in Manhattan - my family for example. A lot of kids were being kidnapped and killed at the time... it was quite scary. I was a kid. I spent all my time inside. We discovered later that Terence Neil and his associates were making this pedophile sex traffic work."

Matt nodded. He had heard of it, after all, but he had never made the connection with Chris's childhood in Manhattan. No wonder he had wanted to get away as soon as possible. 

"It was a seedy, seedy dirty town. Still is. Kids on the street, orphans, without anyone caring for them, they got taken first. Those guys were child murderers, child rapists. If I had to kill someone it would be one of them, but they mysteriously disappeared when Neil junior came to power..."

Chris stopped in his sentence strangely. Matt did not notice it at first.

"But, do you think she was right? Could Simon have, like, I mean, carried on? And killed the girl for calling him out on it?"

"No."

"No? Why? I mean, it's plausible, isn't it? Chris?"

"No, no..."

Chris was rubbing his temples, muttering under his breath, looking like he had just had some sort of epiphany. Matt stared at him blankly. Chris stood up.

"Barnes, I think I just understood something - something very, very important about Neil - Something that could -"

Chris paused, and suddenly looked up at Matt with very wide eyes.

"If this is true I really think we could understand, understand and even predict whatever Neil will do."

Matt blinked twice, Chris was trembling a bit. Matt had never seen him like that in six months of collaboration - it really the longest time someone had stayed in internship in Chris's department.  
The goriest murders, the most dangerous but also least action-packed bureau.  
Matt had been told about Chris. That he was a very strange man, obsessed with his home city where others had moved on. Chris had left Manhattan at age 18. His parents had persisted on staying, like about a hundred other families, among all the gang violence. Chris had never forgiven them, or so had he told Matt after two glasses of vodka at Christmas. He'd wanted to escape for so long - people found it weird that he should consecrate his life to that city he'd told everyone he hated so much. But Matt was curious - at least at first. And now he did not want to leave. 

"And what is that?" Matt asked quietly.

"It's crazy, Barnes, but I think... I don't think... I think Neil killed the- the pedophiles at the head of the Scottish mob. He probably did, and you know why? I mean, I knew Neil had to have some sort of... mental problem, but-"

"Do you think he knew what they were up to?"

"No! I mean yes - Everybody knew! What I mean is - what if Neil had been one of his victims? One of their victims? He was just the right age at the time! This is crazy but if he killed- If he killed that girl, then it makes sense!"

"You mean he could have been- abused?"

"Yes. Yes I do. It would explain everything - Matt I almost got raped by that guy. He's a sex maniac - he's mad. If he's traumatised then it explains everything."

"Do you think - do you think it could help us?"

Chris's eyes were glistening - there was fear in there, but also a strange sort of morbid happiness. 

"I think we could have an opportunity to win this race."


End file.
